


Drive

by DisorientedOwl



Series: 9 Days of Gift Fics [3]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dudes Being Bros, Fluff, Gen, just bros being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisorientedOwl/pseuds/DisorientedOwl
Summary: Bumblebee and Smokescreen being crazy muscle car bros and stuff, I guess.





	Drive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [POPP_Writing_Group](https://archiveofourown.org/users/POPP_Writing_Group/gifts).



> On one hand, I'm growing as an author I guess. On the other, I find out I SUCK at dude bros, muscle car bros. Everything has to be sugary sweet I guess. Sorry Popp.

     Bumblebee couldn’t call himself _lonely_ before Smokescreen came. The base was filled with mentors and fellow Autobots. Ratchet had invaluable knowledge willing to share and pass down to him when he wasn’t distracted. Optimus always had some phrase to find north on your moral compass. Arcee was always willing to spar and Bulkhead to play around with.

     They all had their strengths and Bumblebee would like to think not too many weaknesses. But he missed the kind of social companionship he had at the scout’s barracks. Or on Ironhide’s team. Or really anywhere before his voicebox got damaged.

     It was nice to have mentors. It was even nice to have the kids around. But there was a strange familiarity in having someone around your same age. Smokescreen’s memories of a healthy Cybertron were a nice change of pace from war stories as well. That’s all anyone ever wanted to talk about when they met, Wheeljack told the stories of his scars every time he dropped in. But Smokescreen just wanted to do normal things when they were off shift, like race. Or when they tried to find quarries to swim in even though Ratchet would yell at them as he removed algae from their joints. But it was always worth the punishment. At least, with Smokescreen it made it worth the punishment.

     “Hey Bee,” Smokescreen told him one day, “There’s an automated ship heading out on the coast, wanna sneak out on the groundbridge and check it out?”

.:I don’t know Smokey:.

     “Aww, man please?”

     Bumblebee looked over at Ratchet, diligently monitoring frequency bands .:Keep your voice down:.

     “Come on, we won’t be gone that long. It’s past the ‘Con’s work hours.”

.:How long?:. Bumblebee put his servos on his hips and arched an optic ridge. 

     Smokescreen held up two fingers, “Max.”

.:Fine:.

     Smokescreen waited as he always did, while Bumblebee worked his magic on Ratchet. If the CMO had a soft spot it would be him. Really it made Smokescreen jealous of how much Bee was beloved by his group. It was a large contrast from how they treated him, like he was too young or immature to understand things.

     As if he wasn’t really part of the team.

     It wasn’t true though, it was probably just Smokescreen’s paranoia. That really came out of nowhere. Except he’d been alone most of his life and the other Autobots never seemed to smile, or laugh at his jokes, or _like_ him. Then there was that stressful time that Optimus asked him to become a Prime that he’d felt was the most awkward thing that could happen. But Bumblebee never judged him. At least, _thought_ he never judged him. It was hard to tell with the jerry-rigged communications systems he had. Granted, Ratchet did an amazing job but listening to Bumblebee was like listening to an automated voice, you just couldn’t tell what he was feeling.

     Ratchet looked irritated over to him before Bumblebee speaking brought him back. The medic sighed and nodded. Looks like he agreed to bridge them out begrudgingly.

     “Don’t do anything stupid.” Ratchet told him, “And if there is any Decepticon activity I’ll be bridging you back, no exceptions. Understand?”

.:He gets it, don’t worry Ratchet, I’ll be with him.:.

     Ratchet scoffed and waved his servo, “Fine.”

     Bumblebee held out a low hand behind his back and Smokescreen slapped it gently. More like pawed at it but he wasn’t even sure it was being held out for a low five.

     As always, Bumblebee ignored Smokescreen’s odd brush against his servo. Sometimes his newfound friend was a little awkward, but he knew it was because the speedster was unsure of himself.

     They went through the groundbridge, but either Smokescreen or Ratchet got the coordinates wrong because the docks were empty. Or maybe the ship had left already.

.:Aww, that’s too bad.:. Bumblebee told his friend, beeping over in car mode.

     “That’s fine, you wanna go drink energon on the cliffs?” Smokescreen asked, “I’ll race you to the lighthouse.”

     Engines roared as the two sports cars spun onto the highway. There weren’t many cars out on this road at this time of night. Especially since humans tended to not like the coast when the sun wasn’t out. They finally found a discreet place, well off the road, to sit and watch the stars and sea.

     While they sat quietly looking out at this new planet they had to call home, Smokescreen started to think about base again.

     “Bee, do you even like me?” It slipped out of his mouth and he wished he could bring it back. He spoke quicker in hopes to cover it up, “You know, as a teammate not as a person. Well, not as a person but as a personality. You know as a bot….”

     Smokescreen wished he could pluck the word garbage from the air and bring it back into his processor dump where it belonged.

     Bumblebee looked over at his friend, who looked down at his energon obviously glum from the question.

.:Of course, I like you, why would you think otherwise?:.

    “It’s nothing. I’m sure it’s just me, being me.”

     Bumblebee nodded as if he made sense of exactly what that meant. .:Good thing I like you then.:.

     The speedster kicked out his ped, scuffing the ground with it.

.:It’s the voicebox isn’t it?:.

     Smokescreen tried to protest but both he and his friend knew it to be true. The black and yellow bot scooted a little closer and then leaned on Smokescreen.

.:I’m really glad you’re part of our team, Smokescreen. It feels like I’m not alone anymore.:.

     If Smokescreen was human, he would have started to cry. Instead, he pulled Bumblebee into a tight hug. Bumblebee gave him the closest thing to a laugh and patted his back, right between his doorwings.

     “Thanks, bro. You’re the best friend I’ve _ever_ had.”

.:I’ll always be your bro, Smokey.:.

     Smokescreen let go and shifted, only then realizing how he had been rather overcome with emotion. Bumblebee touched him on the shoulder and patted him again.

.:I’ll try to get better at making you feel at home, Smokey.:.

     “You don’t have to.” Smokescreen didn’t want to be a bother, but knowing his brother in arms cared so much made him feel a little better. “Race you back to the pickup point?”

.:You’re on.:.

     As Smokescreen transformed back into his alt mode, it wasn’t just fuel running through his pumps, it was the excitement that after all this time, he had a friend to rely on.


End file.
